At the mention of cooking a light seemed to come into emerald eyes. Though his expression remained calm, Hadama didn't think nearly as long about this answer as he usually did. "I am not busy. And I have never had them cooked." Spoken with a hint of anticipatory relish. Such a strange, delightful word: cooked. It was an uncommon practice in the undersea, to say the least, and the budding epicure was immediately curious.
He handed the bag over until Evie could empty it of mussels and refill it with seaweed and wriggled in closer to shore. It wasn't particularly graceful, partially beaching himself so his lower half remained in the steady surf and he could lean his elbows onto the wet sand to watch, but it would make it easier to share the coming meal, he hoped.
"Is this seaweed useful in dryland medicines?" he asked curiously.
He handed the bag over until Evie could empty it of mussels and refill it with seaweed and wriggled in closer to shore. It wasn't particularly graceful, partially beaching himself so his lower half remained in the steady surf and he could lean his elbows onto the wet sand to watch, but it would make it easier to share the coming meal, he hoped.
"Is this seaweed useful in dryland medicines?" he asked curiously.
